


Reading Between The Lines

by respoftw



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22131565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: What happened offworld, stayed offworld.Rumours are flying and John overreacts (possibly) (definitely)
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Comments: 29
Kudos: 159





	Reading Between The Lines

What happened offworld, stayed offworld.

Those were supposed to be the rules. Editing mission reports so that the juicier, more embarrassing details were veiled in doublespeak and allusions was a skill that every single mission-ready expedition member was expected to excel at.

Sometimes John thought that they should teach classes on it; run drills the same way that they did for physical combat and target practice. 

Unfortunately, reading between the lines of those kinds of reports was another skill that almost everyone eventually picked up so while he wasn’t surprised to realise that his men knew what happened on PKO-859, he was damn surprised by how he came to that realisation.

“Corporal Anderson,” John interrupted, feeling only somewhat slightly mollified when the marine snapped to attention. “Do you mind repeating what it was you just said?”

The corporal- young, blonde and barely six weeks off the Daedalus - cast a worried look at his two cronies before dropping his eyes to look at the floor.

“Sir, it was nothing, sir,” he murmured. 

“Really?” John’s eyes narrowed as he stepped closer. “It didn’t sound like nothing to me. In fact, it sounded to me like you were making some extremely inappropriate comments about a respected member of this expedition.”

Silence answered him, the whole of the mess hall seeming to hold its breath at the same time. 

“Nothing to say for yourself, Corporal?” John nodded at the answering silence. “That’s what I thought. Well, congratulations, you’ve just won yourself a trip back to Earth. Report to Major Lorne for your instructions until the Daedalus gets back and gets you the hell off my city.”

John turned and left the mess hall, ignoring the hum of shocked whispers that had broken out at his actions. They could be as shocked as they liked, John wouldn’t - couldn’t - stand for that kind of disrespect. 

He had reacted appropriately.

He had.

* * *

“Heard a rumour that you sent one of the marines packing today,” Ronon said as he dodged John’s attempt at a punch easily. 

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot of rumours flying about right now.” Frustrated, John rolled his shoulders just to hear the muscles pop before springing back to an offensive position on the mat. 

“Heard some others too,” Ronon agreed easily. “They all sounded like the truth to me.”

The crack of John’s fist against Ronon’s jaw felt really good for almost half a second before John realised that the cracking sound came from his own fist rather than Ronon’s jaw.

“Let’s get you to the infirmary,” Ronon sighed, not having the decency to sound even remotely hurt by the hit.

John let him lead the way, his fist tucked into his armpit. He muttered an apology to Ronon as Carson took him away for a scan of his hand.

It was possible he had overreacted.

To Ronon. Not the marine.

Definitely not the marine.

* * *

All the discoveries of the Ancients at their fingertips and they were still stuck with bandages and gypsum for broken bones. 

John had three separate visitors while he sat in the infirmary waiting for the plaster cast to dry.

Elizabeth was first, looking exasperated.

“Really, John?” she said in greeting.

“Yeah, not my smartest move,” he admitted. His hand and wrist were already starting to itch under the cast. “But it’s an easy break. 4 weeks max and then I’ll be back at full strength.”

“I wasn’t talking about the broken hand, John,” she said, looking disappointed. “Fix this and fix it soon.”

Teyla was next. She turned up with an armful of knitting and made John hold his good arm out so she could wind the yarn around it before dropping gracefully into a chair and starting to knit.

John was thankful for the silence. At least at first.

He eventually cracked. “Aren’t you going to tell me that I ‘disappointed you’ or something?” 

Teyla raised an eyebrow but didn’t answer, just kept knitting.

“You didn’t hear what he said,” John continued. “I couldn’t - - nobody should speak like that about another person.”

Teyla kept knitting.

“It’s disrespectful.”

The knitting sounds continued.

“It’s,” John sighed. “- - look, it’s Rodney. I couldn’t - - “

Teyla stood up abruptly, collecting her yarn. 

“Perhaps you should consider how you would have reacted had it not been Dr McKay that the words spoke of,” she said on her way out.

John was left to think on that for another fifteen minutes, up until his cast was almost fully dry, before his third and final visitor of the day came in.

“Sir, permission to speak freely?”

Lorne stood at parade rest in front of him and John rolled his eyes, gesturing to the chair.

“Sit your ass down, Lorne and I think I already know what you’re going to say.”

Lorne sat on the seat, his posture still stiff enough that John’s back hurt in sympathy.

“Sir - -”

“Corporal Anderson can stay,” John interrupted. 

Lorne’s posture immediately sagged in relief. 

“It’s possible that I overreacted.”

Lorne’s mouth ticked up at the corner - just for a second. He schooled his reaction quickly though. It’s one of the reasons that John knew Lorne was going to have a hell of a career one day - he was much better than John had ever been at hiding his amusement with his COs.

“Possibly, sir,” Lorne agreed. “Although, if you don’t mind me taking the liberty, I would like to re-arrange the rotas to allow Corporal Anderson and his friends to take a turn on guard duty in the labs for the foreseeable? I’ve found that respect for the scientists tends to shoot up once you’ve watched them save our asses ten times in a week.”

John huffed in amusement at that. It was a good plan and he didn’t hesitate to tell Lorne that.

“Thank you, Sir.” Lorne stood up to leave, hesitating slightly on his way out.

“What else?”

“It’s just - “ Lorne sighed. “You do realise that he didn’t mean it like you think, right?”

John’s eyes narrowed. “‘I just wish that I could have been there to see McKay take that punishment,” John repeated the marine’s words, his voice hard. “‘Hell, there’d probably be a line around the block of people wanting to get a shot at spanking that ass.’ What the hell else is that supposed to mean?”

Lorne ducked his head and took a deep breath before lifting it to look John in the eye. 

“A lot of people - people who don’t know better - think Dr McKay is an ass; that’s true. But if you take a poll I’d bet that more people think that Dr McKay  _ has _ a great ass, Sir. Maybe the best one on base and, well, some of those people might enjoy, ah, engaging in certain activities with said ass.”

To his credit, Lorne looked only a little mortified at having to spell this out for John.

“You’re telling me Corporal Anderson is - - “

“I’m not telling you anything, Sir.”

John nodded. “Understood, Major. Dismissed.”

Lorne turned to go.

“And, Evan?”

Lorne turned back.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, John.”

* * *

Two hours later, his plaster cast dry and Corporal Anderson and Ronon both apologised to, John let himself into his quarters and headed straight for the hidden, adjoining door to Rodney’s quarters next door.

Rodney was exactly where John left him this morning, stretched out on his belly in bed with three laptops surrounding him. He was wearing a soft cotton t-shirt and nothing else, the deep, dark bruises and swelling on his ass making anything else impossible. 

Before witnessing the punishment that the mayor of PKO-859 meted out, John might have agreed with Corporal Anderson on the appeal of spanking Rodney’s truly spectacular ass but hearing Rodney yell himself hoarse with pain had cured John of any such kink.

“Oh, good, you’re back,” Rodney said, his voice muffled by the fact that he couldn’t turn around to greet John. “Do you have any idea how bored I’ve been today? Carson wouldn’t even agree to give me network access because I’m supposed to be resting.” Rodney said the last word like it was the worst kind of curse word.

“I see you managed to get around that,” John said, noting the laptops which were clearly showing data that could only be accessed on the network.

“Well, I am a genius after all,” Rodney preened. “But I’m still bored. Talk to me, did anything exciting happen today?”

“I managed to punch Ronon during drills today,” John stepped into Rodney’s sight line and showed his new plaster cast off with a flourish.

“Idiot,” Rodney admonished fondly. “I presume that the fact that you’ve already been let out the infirmary means that it’s a clean break. No pins or surgery or blood clots?”

John sat on the bed and let Rodney examine the cast. “The cleanest break he’s ever seen,” he promised, trying not to wince as his eyes roamed across Rodney’s collection of bruises.

“Hmm, well, we’ll see. Anything else happen today? I hate to say it but being out of the labs means being behind on the gossip.”

“Well,” John drawled the word out, teasing Rodney. Laughing, he shook his head. Rodney would find out eventually, the rumour mill was too good for him not to but for now, John wanted a quiet night with the man he loved, not a night of the man he loved preening about his great ass and laughing at John’s overreaction. 

“Nope,” he said. “Not a thing.”


End file.
